Good Grief!

Days, weeks, months go by and grief is left behind. Until a moment arises such as when I found my mother's camera, with film in it. Did it capture a moment in time or has that passed? How long has that film sat in the camera?

I processed the film and there she is, mum in her garden oasis, picking fruit, straight from the tree. Looking closely, I see that she is offering that fruit to me. If it wasn't me, it was her neighbour or a friend. No one left her house without an arm full of fruits and vegetables. Mum grew more than she needed.

This week leads me towards two years, to the day, since Mum passed away. Good grief! Grief consumes me once again.

It's that feeling like you have been kicked in the stomach and you can't exhale. And when you do, it is shallow. The salty water that floods my eyes, my body that aches to be held by her again, whilst my spirit celebrates that her spirit will now ascend.

The hallmark card says that she will always be in my heart. She is Milka. Milka is in some of the words that I say to myself and to those around me, the sharp wit that I bring to a conversation, the compassion that I bring to others, especially when it comes to social injustice; my love for the land and the animals that walk and fly above it, and the courage to walk alone if that means that I am walking in the path of the truth.

I used to think that the highest vibration was love. I learnt that, in fact, it is authenticity. Milka was authentic indeed.

Good Grief!